2w5d: Transferred two blasts. Stayed on bed rest for two days.
3w4d: Home pregnancy test was positive. My grandmother died the same day.
3w5d and 4w: Home tests got progressively darker.
4w0d: Beta #1 was 241. I’m told there could be either one or two heartbeats in there. I’m fairly certain there are zero.
4w1d: First craving kicked in: water. (This is still happening.)
4w2d: Beta #2 was 586. I’m told again that there might be two babies in there. I’m still convinced that there are zero.
4w4d: Found out my brother’s wife is 7 weeks pregnant. This could go badly.
4w6d: Boobs became enormous. This would be fun if they weren’t so sore.
5w0d: So. Tired. (This was severe through week 14, but I’m still taking every chance I get to nap.)
6w0d: I watched We Bought a Zoo. Started crying. Haven’t stopped. This could go badly. (This is still happening.)
6w6d: Still don’t believe I’m pregnant. Ultrasound is tomorrow. This could go badly.
7w0d: Ultrasound showed 2 sacs, but one was empty. The other had a heartbeat of 121 beats per minute. Um, holy shit.
7w1d: Realize that it’s entirely possible that the heart stopped beating as soon as the ultrasound wand left my vagina, and I wonder if I can buy a device to wear inside my vagina that sends heart-beating audio into a discreetly concealed earpiece. An optional vibrating feature would be a bonus.
7w6d: Made an appointment with an obstetrician, which I keep thinking I’m going to have to cancel because the heart has probably stopped beating. Just in case, I’m already planning my next frozen embryo transfer.
8w0d: Ate a huge bowl of pasta and an apple croissant. Not in that order. Apparently the diet is weening itself from my list of priorities. (These naughty cravings lasted through week 13.)
9w2d: Second ultrasound showed that the little one is still hanging in there. Heartbeat is 173 beats per minute. It seems this might really be happening, so I booked a flight to tell my parents.
9w4d: Started spotting. I’m not panicking or anything, but I sure wish I weren’t spotting. (This lasted a week.)
10w2d: Met an OB. I say “an OB” and not “my OB” because I don’t love her and may switch. In the meantime, my third ultrasound confirms that there’s still a heartbeat at 170 beats per minute.
Also, tonight was my last shot, which means I get my ass back.
10w6d: Have I mentioned how huge my tits are?
11w2d: Took my last suppository pill, which means I get my pussy back. It also means that I’m entirely unmedicated, but mostly the pussy thing because ohmygod that was disgusting.
11w6d: Nuchal translucency scan and blood tests came back great, so Down’s syndrome and trisomy 18 are all but ruled out. Heart rate was 160 beats per minute. So was the baby’s.
12w2d: Told my parents. The screaming and crying lasted about 10 minutes. The shaking and praying lasted another 15. They were happy.
14w0d: Made 2 new appointments with 2 new OBs. I wish I could keep all of them because apparently I’m that patient.
14w5d: My therapist asked me if I feel pregnant. If by pregnant, she means fat, then yes, I feel very pregnant.
15w1d: It happened. My belly is starting to bump. I still don’t feel pregnant, though. Whatever that means.
15w2d: My tits have stretch marks. Stretch marks. On my fucking tits. Goddamnit.
16w0d: My belly popped. I kinda sorta look a little bit pregnant. I’m still not telling people, though; pretty sure I’m fooling no one.
16w2d: Found my OB, and he’s great – mostly because he said I could take baths and eat sushi, but also because he’s great. Also he said I could find out the gender at today’s appointment, but I’m waiting until N is back in town because I’m an awesome wife. Baby’s heart is still ticking at 150 bpm.
16w4d: I can no longer breathe while laying on my back. This is only a problem during sex, because the pregnant lady shouldn’t have to do all the work.
17w3d: Waddled down some stairs, and a woman gave me an “Aw, you’re pregnant” look, which was kind of sweet except why am I already waddling?
18w2d: A sudden bad mood has swept over me and doesn’t seem to be abating. I’m afraid this will never change. (It was ultrasound-related stress and ended three days later.)
18w5d: IT’S A GIRL, and I’ve finally exhaled. All her parts are the right size and are in the right place. Looks like my contents are as healthy as can be. So relieved. PHEW!!!!! And YAYYYY!!!!! (Sorry, I didn’t mean to scream, but I’m sure you understand.)
21w4d: Took a long walk, and started having strong round ligament pains that won’t go away, so I’m using this as an excuse to not exercise. And to eat lots of cake.
23w3d: Finally feeling her move, which is on the later side because my placenta is on the anterior wall of my uterus, and that means she needed to get strong enough to punch through that airbag for me to feel anything. Job well done, child.
24w5d: Went in for another ultrasound and found that the baby is measuring 11 days behind. Have a follow-up ultrasound at 28w1d to monitor growth. This isn’t good.
28w1d: Ultrasound showed that the baby was catching up and is only 7 days behind. The larger concern, however, is that I’m also in preterm labor with a 4mm cervix.
For those interested in the details (although, they’re not very interesting), here’s what went down while I was in the hospital:
- I had 2.5 grams of magnesium sulfate per hour for 50 hours
- I had 2 shots of steroids to help the baby’s lungs develop in anticipation of not being able to stop the contractions
- I received a saline drip for days
- Contractions stopped with the mag, so after a few days, I was taken out of the ICU and into antepartum care. This lasted 3 hours at which point more contractions made them readmit me to the ICU.
- I was put on nifedipine every 4 hours. This caused my blood pressure to drop to 70/40, so I was taken off. The return of contractions had they put me back on every 6 hours. I was also on indocin for 3 days.
- The baby and my uterus were monitored 24 hours a day, then 8 hours a day.
- When the contractions had finally stabilized and my meds were regulated, I was readmitted to the antepartum unit where I stayed for 9 days.
- I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes.
- I had a pessary inserted into my vagina.
- I was told I needed to leave when I hit 29w2d. That morning, I was told that I should stay until I hit 30w. My balls dropped that morning, and I told them that I’d leave no earlier than 30w3d so I can arrange for proper bed rest at home. They agreed.
30w3d: Got released from the hospital.
30w5d: The fucking gestational diabetes is a fucking pain in my fucking ass because I can’t have a fucking bowl of fucking brown rice and fucking vegetables without fucking going over fucking 140, goddamn it. Fuck.
30w6d: Began having contractions lasting 30-60 seconds at 2 minute intervals for 30 minutes. They told me to go to the ICU. By the time I got there, the contractions had subsided.
32w0d: Admitted for the third time after a monitoring appointment where contractions looked worrisome. Got another steroid shot, and was released the next day.
33w1d: She’s been moving a lot. Mostly her feet and her butt. The feet part is fine (I picture tap dancing), but the butt part worries me (I picture twerking).
35w2d: Doctor let me know that he was elated that I’ve made it this far since because, “when it comes to preterm labor, they have no idea what they’re doing.” Great.
36w1d: Still pregnant…
37w3d: SNG is born!